The Tena for Women Assesment Test - (TWAT for short)
Whilst having a conversation with one of my friends whilst 'slightly' inebriated, we were interupted by the TV advert for Tena lady pads. Being men, drunk and probably too immature for our age men, we started discussing the possible efficacy of these magical pads.

After an extensive discussion, we decided that it would be of great benefit to women, and maybe men, the world over if we experimented with them just to see how much pee they could actually hold before what we dubbed 'total urinary containment failre' occurred.

Very soon after this decision to test the pads was made, the experiment was designed.

Method
======
Basically myself and my friend had a pee at the same time (not literally, thats just wrong) and ensured we didn't drink anything for at least 6 hours so we were 'empty' - then based on the fact that the bladder will only hold around a pint (ish) we both drank 600ml of water. We then obtained a box of Tena lady pads and tossed a coin to see who would wear the pads (the other would be the control.)

I won the toss so decided to wear the pad - a bold and clever decision so I thought. So I placed the pad into my undercrackers and waited until we were both bursting for the loo.

The time came - we were nervous - we knew that there was no real way to quantify the test, so we would judge the result by two things: size of pee patch on control vs tena pad and amount of time taken for pee patch to form.

We stood in front of the mirror, me with my pad and my mate with nothing for protection. Then we counted down.

3

2

1

PISS!

We both started. It felt warm and uncomfortable and the patches on our jeans were growing uncontrollably. After what seemed like an eternity - the wee flow ceased. Both of us COVERED in our own piss looking like we had a map of russia on our jeans.

Results
=======
Epic failure for the tena pad. It seems if you leak more than a thimble full of liquid onto them, you lose containment. More importantly - the realisation that we were standing in a room and had just pissed ourselves dawned on us. Then I realised that not only was I covered in hot piss, I had a damn incontinence pad in my pants...

Conclusion
==========
We learn't that Tena lady pads will NOT contain an entire wee and that we are both clearly imbaciles of the HIGHEST order.

Can people really smell your farts?
Spurred on by the experiment I posted on page 2, I decided to undertake another experiment. After last time, I decided to make any future experiments 'clean' - as in not resulting in me ending up covered in steamy urine - so I set to thinking what I could experiment with.

Now you may well know already that you cannot force creativity - the same can be said for farts which I learnt to be 100% fact the other morning when I squeezed out the most ear piercing, glass shattering, kill your neighbours cat causing, atmosphere destroying, insect repelling squeeler of all time... which of course due to the fact that it was the best fart I have EVER heard I squeezed out a teeny bit too long. My girlfriend heard this beautiful anal symphony and automatically held her nose and said something along the lines of "you dirty bastard" - I actually thought the gaseous part of the fart didn't smell but hey ho.

Suffice it to say that pair of underwear is in the bin - but it did give me an idea what to experiment with.

So after much procrastination and digretion - the expriment is: Can people really smell your farts or is it a psychosomatic response to the noise?

I wanted to test this in a variety of different situations: the car (confined space), the bedroom (sexy space), the toilet with door open (proper space), the garden (open space), in company (the group test.) I also had to make sure all the farts were as silent as possible to ensure the psychosomatic response factor was zero. This lead to experimentation of its own right ranging from prying apart my meaty cheeks, producing a noise akin to pinching and pulling the end of an inflated balloon, to super tensing which just made it sound like I had ripped a hole in space-time. Once I perfected the technique - which didn't take long as I had windy pops - I got to it.

1) The Car
I silently let rip with the girlfriend next to me and windows and vents closed. Result - She gagged and nearly threw up.

FAIL

2) Bed
This experiment was flawed from the beginning as I gave her a dutch oven. HIlarious but painful as I got a shot to the pills. Ouch.

FAIL

3) Toilet
This was wasn't even silent and you know what.....she didn't smell it!!

SUCCESS

4) Garden
Again - she did NOT smell it - could I be seeing a trend form here? Are sphincter jingles really only smelt as a psychosomatic response due to the sound, or had I just lost potency from farting too much?

SUCCESS

5) In Company
Majorly bad idea - like the worst idea possible. She smelt it, I smelt it, everyone smelt it. Proving that not only did my farts have the unbelievable maturity in smell to clear a room in seconds, but that farting in a room with your missus and her parents is NOT a way to impress them.

FAIL

Well it was a close call, a failure by only a small margin. Perhaps this failure can be attributed to my stupidity in burying my girls face into a pile of fresh noctious gas - who knows. Either way, it wasn't a very fair test this time... but man was it enjoyable!

It didn't end in me getting covered in pee and better yet it gave me a reason to expel my expertly crafted bodily contribution to the destruction of the ozone layer - like I ever needed one!
(Tue 29th Jul 2008, 14:23, More)

oh shit oh shit oh shit
Well its almost home time and I am bored shitless as usual so I decide to go and have a pee, as you do.

I finish my pee and then for no reason whatsoever look around the room for ways to cause mischief. It's not a small cubible, but a regular sized toilet with a radiator, sink and all the modern day office toilet gadgets.

So - I outstretch my arms and find I can touch both sides of the room, comfortably - then decide in a moment of sheer genius/stupidity to see if I can shimmy up and touch the ceiling. Well that was a bad move - a very very bad move.

Next thing I know, I am using the radiator as a foot hold to get myself up, touching both sides of the wall and just as I was about to touch the ceiling the fucking radiator broke.. I slipped and put my arm through the seemingly paper thin bloody wall.

I really should have known this would have happened seen as to put it in no uncertain terms - I am a fat bastard. Now it would seem my title has been upgraded to 'stupid' fat bastard and HOPEFULLY one that will not get found out!!

My brother from another mother
I will start by saying I am an only child. Well I may as well be an only child as my biological father, whom I have never met and never wish to as he beat my mother whilst pregnant with me, has 3 other children that I also haven't met.

I digress...

From a very young age, say three or four, I was absolute best buds with a lad that lived around the corner from me. We were as thick as thieves, some said we even looked similar and we did everything together. I remember countless times playing transformers or lego together, playing board games and hide and seek - all the usual kiddie stuff. I also remember the sleepovers we had where we would completely destroy the room and make a pretend fort and just play games in until we were caught and told off for not going to sleep or just fell asleep as it was so late. Growing, up we both were into the same things, computer games, racing cars, sports and more importantly at the time stealing booze from his dad and get wasted and play 3am knock down ginger with our neighbours. We were practically brothers and even our own parents called each of us their 'surrogate sons'.

So life is as usual until we reach the age of wanting to explore the realms of the opposite sex. I was abnormally shy, though I could speak to girls no problem - sealing the deal was seemingly always unobtainable but my mate apparently was the Don Juan of the teenage world. Girls loved him and he loved them. Yeah I was jealous that he had got to 4th base before I had, a kind of sibling rivalry I guess, but really to me it made no difference.

So fast forward a little bit and one day we are having our usual tipple of his dads pinched gin (I now HATE gin incidentally) and he divulges some information that took me by suprise....

"Spangulum... I have something to tell you..."

"oh yeah...?"

"I haven't really had sex with a bird yet... I was just lying so nobody would know my true feelings..."

"fair enough" was all I managed to get out before he continued.

"...I actually really fancy you...love you... and want you to be my first."

...

...

...

I ran... ashamed to say it but I got up, left his house and bloody ran all the way home: shocked, stunned and just really confused at what he said. I was categorically not that way inclined, and am still not for the record, and never really considered myself homophobic at all - but this just really freaked me out. The whole night I couldn't sleep, just thinking about what was just said and the situation I was put in. Sobered me up damn fast I can tell you!

The next day he saw me again and pretended to not know what happened so naturally I did the same... I guess just hoping each other would have forgotten as we were both pretty drunk but it was pretty obvious due to the tension in the air that we both were very well aware.

We didn't really speak anymore after that... it has now been about 12 years that I haven't seen him and miss him as a mate - and kind of miss that feeling that I had a brother of sorts. God knows what I must have put him through by running like I did epsecially when he put his heart on the line like that. I still feel bad to this day and wish I had handled things differently.

Sorry for the lack of laughs or puns - this is just something that has been locked away inside my head for a long time and I suppose needed to get out.
(Tue 30th Dec 2008, 16:37, More)

Valentines Day....
I won't bore you all with a long story, embellishing all the details to the point of obvious fallacy. What I will do is give you a blow by blow account of what happened to make it the most unsuccessful but memorable valentines day in a long time.

1) Wake up and I suprise her with a teddy and lovely red rose.

2) Make her breakfast in bed and have a little 'cuddle'

3) Give her a card and a box of choccies

4) Enjoyed each others company for the day, watching films cuddled up on the sofa, went for a lovely walk as the sun was out for a couple of minutes.

5) Took her out for a nice, expensive, meal which was VERY romantic

6) Got back home and I wanted a shower

Now - this is where things start to go horribly wrong.....

7) I am showering and she is sat talking to me / watching me lather up. We dont have an attachment to clip to the wall so have to hold the shower head and kinda rinse everywhere.

8) I squeeze out a fart - only it wasn't just a fart I squeezed out.

9) She notices the micro poo and gags and leaves. I laugh hysterically, out of hilarity and embaressment.

10) I coax her back in to the bathroom when I have cleared away the mess - slightly more aware that the night of passion was going to be a lot less likely.

11) I slip over in the bath, dropping the shower head and getting her RIGHT IN THE BLOODY EYES with a high pressure jet of water.